Sweet Treats
by 2violetflower15
Summary: This is a place for all of the stories I've written for Richonne Just Desserts on Tumblr.
1. Chapter 1: Bakers Dozen Challenge

**Title: The Richonne Bakers Dozen Sentence Challenge**

 **Total Words: 429 words**

 **Ratings: M**

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 **1\. Angst**

Michonne wrapped her arms around Carl as they watched a frantic Rick place his mouth over Judith's, trying one last time to breath life into lungs that had long since stopped working.

 **2\. AU**

The bus driver said it would take six hours to get to D.C, but looking into the cornflower blue eyes of the handsome stranger seated next to her, Michonne suddenly didn't care that she would be arriving late to Thanksgiving dinner.

 **3\. Crack (Scandal)**

"Apparently D.C. is being run by a woman and her assassin husband," Rick flexed his hand, still sore from the jaw he'd broken during his last encounter with her group, "they call themselves: Gladiators."

 **4\. Future fic**

Michonne ran her fingers over the deep lines in her husband's questioning face then tangled them in his curly locks, now grey with the passage of time, "Of course I'm still with you, Rick."

 **5\. First Time**

Michonne laughed as Rick jumped up from the table to celebrate his first win with a boastful victory dance, knocking the chess board off of the table and sending the tiny pieces flying across the floor.

 **6\. Fluff**

The two lovers sat under the branches of the tall oak tree, cuddled together under a blanket of stars; sharing soft kisses, and whispered promises about the future.

 **7\. Humor**

"A-ha," Rick exclaimed as he turned on the kitchen light to find Carl and Michonne, giggling and stuffing stolen Oreo cookies into their already full mouths, "y'all are so busted!"

 **8\. Hurt/Comfort**

She trembled in his arms as he kissed her tears, the salty wetness tangible proof of the worry she felt when the group had returned to Alexandria without him.

 **9\. Smut**

"You have to be quiet," he pressed her up against the wall and covered her mouth with his hand as he plunged into her warm wetness, "they'll hear us."

 **10\. UST (Unresolved Sexual Tension)**

"This dress," he whispered in her ear, slipping behind her to wrap a possessive arm around her tiny waist, "is going to end up getting someone at this party into a whole lot of trouble."

 **11\. Domestic**

Rick pulled the cheesy pasta dish from the oven and set it on the counter to cool, just like the note said; she was going to be so proud.

 **12\. Writer's Choice/Free Form**

"So… Rick," Michonne grabbed his belt and gave it a hard yank, pulling the soft leather through all of the loops of his jeans in one fell swoop, "Morgan tells me you snitched on me about that damn granola bar."


	2. Chapter 2: Subway Series

**Summary: AU. Rick and Michonne run into each other while riding the metro in DC.**

 **Could a spark of recognition lead to something more?**

 **(Each section is limited to 100 words.)**

 **Rating: T**

 ***denotes text message***

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 **Prompts:**

 **Do I know you?**

 **Don't make eye contact. Just keep walking.**

 **I'm sorry. I'll never do it again.**

 **Sit down.**

 **How does this thing work?**

 **Not again.**

 **Don't be mad.**

 **One question: Why?**

 **Would you do me the honor?**

 **How did this happen?**

* * *

 **1."Do I know you?" (Rick)**

 _Maybe it's her hair? She kinda looks like that accountant that Daryl brought with him to Glenn's Fourth of July party last summer. Or was it two summers ago?_ Lori was nine months pregnant at the time, so it had to have been last summer. He remembered because she had chosen that particular get together to announce to all of their mutual friends that she and Shane were getting married. And he hadn't been able to take his eyes off of the stranger with the enigmatic eyes, and the thick black hair. That has to be her. _Shit, she's looking_ …

 **2."Don't make eye contact. Just keep walking." (Michonne)**

The blue eyed stranger had been staring since Metro Center. _Take a damn picture, sheesh._ The train car slowed to a stop and a bell chimed. "Doors opening: Woodley Park." Finally. She stepped onto the platform, already envisioning the pesto pasta she would order for dinner, when she collided with a solid chest. She looked up into familiar blue eyes.

"Hi. Have we met?"

She blinked, transfixed. _He's southern._ "I don't think so." She turned to leave.

"For some reason I feel like you put Doritos in your sandwiches," he called after her. "Am I right?"

She didn't answer him.

 **3\. "I'm sorry. I'll never do it again." (Rick)**

He'd taken the red line everyday for three days straight, but had yet to see her again. Doritos. He cringed. No wonder she kept walking.

"Are you stalking me?"

Her voice was deeper than he remembered. Sexy. "No." He took in her strappy black heels and her long, bare legs. _Fancy._

"Maggie's BBQ. You took the last of the chips."

"If I recall correctly, you yelled at me. Lesson learned."

"I thought you lived in Georgia."

The heel of his cowboy boot clicked against the dirty concrete. _You can take the boy out of the country._ He smiled. "Not anymore."

 **4\. "Sit down." (Michonne)**

Doritos. She tried to write it off as an oddly specific pick up line, but his eyes just wouldn't let her.

She and Mike had just split, and she was feeling sorry for herself. Daryl, ever a friend, had invited her to Maggie's BBQ. Old blue eyes here had been a little greedy, and thus incurred her wrath. She'd been hormonal and depressed but he'd just smiled at her with those eyes.

The train arrived and she entered the railcar, sliding into an empty pair of seats. She turned to look at him. "Are you just going to stand there?"

 **5\. "How does this thing work?" (Rick)**

They sat together for the short ride to Adams Morgan. The silence between them was awkward, but not entirely uncomfortable.

"Maggie said you're in DC to be closer to your kids."

 _Kid. Singular._ He swallowed. "Yeah. My ex wife moved here with her new husband." _She smells like peaches._ "I think our stop is next."

She nodded. Silence. "I could give you my number."

 _Thank God._ He pulled out his phone. "I don't really know how to…it's new. My son made me get it." _Smooth, Grimes._

"Here, let me."

Their fingers brushed when she took the phone from him.

 **6\. "Not again." (Michonne)**

Her phone beeped.

*Hi. It's Rick. From the train. No work today. Sick kid. Sorry to miss you.*

When she hadn't seen him, her first thought was: _I hope he's ok._ Followed immediately by: _I hope he's still interested._ She hated feeling insecure.

Ending things with Mike had killed her. She'd spent a lot of time sitting with the ghosts of that relationship. She'd almost become a ghost herself. Fortunately, Andre wouldn't let her.

She wouldn't go back to being that woman. Certainly not for some beautiful stranger.

 _Those eyes._

*This isn't going to work for me.*

She hit send.

 **7\. "Don't be mad." (Rick)**

He eased into the seat behind her. "Hey." He wasn't expecting the wall of silence that greeted him. His hands were sweaty which made it difficult to hold the phone.

*I missed seeing your face yesterday.*

Nothing.

*Is that weird to say?*

The few feet between them felt like miles.

*Listen, whatever I did. I'm sorry.*

A bell chimed and the throngs of passengers spilled out onto the busy platform. He scanned the crowd for a glimpse of her face, but she was nowhere to be seen.

And then he smelled peaches.

"It's not about you. At all. It's me."

 **8\. "One question: Why?" (Michonne)**

The train screeched its way down the track and the platform cleared, leaving them in their own little bubble. "I'm being intentionally obtuse here."

He laughed. "I gathered."

She was surprised. "I don't have a lot of time for dating. I work, a lot. And I have a young son at home. This, " she gestured between them with a frantic hand, "is a distraction. "

"I distract you?"

His face over breakfast with Andre. His voice during a conference call at work. His eyes at night while alone in bed.

"Yes, you do." _That smile._ "What do you want from me?"

 **9\. "Would you do me the honor?" (Rick)**

"We could start with your name? You didn't include that tidbit with your number." He tilted his head and gave her a soft smile.

She stared at him with narrowed eyes. "Intentionally obtuse, remember?"

"Right," he joked, "How could I forget?"

"It's Michonne."

He scanned her face. "Is that French?"

Her mouth twitched. "At its root, I suppose."

"It's nice to meet you, Michonne." He extended a hand in her direction. She hesitated briefly, then shook it gingerly. "So, I passed a sandwich shop on my way to work today, and they were fully stocked with Doritos. Are you hungry?"

 **10\. "How did this happen?" (Michonne)**

She bit into her Italian sub stuffed full of corn chips and smiled at the cheesy crunch. Old blue eyes, Rick, made sure to buy a few extra bags. Now he was telling her a story about his son's nose, a marble, and the emergency room. _He's funny_.

"So, Michonne… I'd like to see you again. What do you think?"

 _I think I'm standing on the edge of a cliff._ She looked up into his eyes and a sense of calm settled over her. He seemed worth the risk. She took a breath, and jumped.

"I think I'd like that."


	3. Chapter 3: Tinkerbell

**Word Count: 968**

 **Summary: A free verse poem inspired by _staring into each other's eyes_ and _pet names._ Written from Rick's POV about Michonne.**

 **Rating: T**

 **Gift For: cluelessinseattle**

* * *

The sun is peaking over the horizon, but I am already awake.

She is next to me.

Her skin is hot.

She burns.

Like even while at rest, the stardust in her composition spins and turns

Replenishing her magic.

Because magic she surely is.

She sparkles and glows.

The proof is in her smile.

If you sit a while

And wait

She'll show you.

But you'll have to be patient.

She only shares it with a

Privileged few.

I saw it right away.

Not the smile

That came another day.

I mean the magic.

You see

It's also in her eyes.

They're alive.

They dance. They invite.

They scold.

They have a language all their own.

Which is important to note, because she won't

Speak.

She's selective

With her words.

Protective

Of her heart.

It's been broken.

I still don't know how

Exactly.

Because

She

Doesn't always

Say.

And her eyes

While quite articulate

Only speak one language.

And I

While well versed in the prose her orbs compose

Know that some things get lost in translation.

She hides. In plain sight.

She slips away

Quiet like.

But there's not a soul who knows

Her

Better than

Me.

And I see

Everything.

I see when her magic dims.

And how her obsidian circles sometimes fill with salty tears that become

Deep oceans

Where her troubles swim.

Eyes like windows with blinds shut tight

Behind which

She disappears.

I don't know where she goes.

(Inside her fears?)

I wish she'd take me with her.

But I know she isn't used to traveling with passengers.

And I do have a lot of baggage.

Although

I know

My load has gotten lighter as of late.

Her back supports a lot of weight.

That's part of her magic too.

Her strength.

She's the strongest person I know.

Or knew.

She's so much stronger than me.

She's able to hold all of my dreams.

And I dream big.

She carries me with her. She keeps me safe.

I wonder if she knows that she's my way

Home.

I don't get so lost these days.

The sun is sneaking through the window now, and I am still awake.

She is next to me.

Naked and free.

She stirs.

And I stir with her.

Her muscles bend and flex

And I see sex.

You see

There's magic in her skin

It draws me in.

Black as night

She

Absorbs all of my light.

But I don't mind.

I've learned that I only exist to reflect the light she takes in kind.

We're good that way.

The perfect contradiction.

Juxtaposing our way through life.

Husband and wife.

Darkness and Light.

We are the down and the up

Side.

She's soft.

And I'm hard.

But that should come as no surprise.

You see

There's magic

In between her thighs.

And in her cries.

And while she prays.

And when it's my name

She says

Over, and over, and over again.

Thanking God

For making

Man and Woman

The perfect fit.

And with my need to water seeds

She is the perfect conduit.

She is the soil that I plant myself into

With deep roots.

 _Rick..._

She speaks.

And just like that

I am trapped

In the gossamer threads of the web

That is her voice.

I have no choice.

'Cause while she doesn't always speak

She sings to me

In melodies composed of secret dreams and fantasies.

I am her harmony.

And when we come together, Our vibrations

Rival symphonies.

The sun is streaming through the window now, and I am wide awake.

She is next to me.

A queen.

And I am her loyal subject.

Her valiant Knight

Ready and willing to slay all of the dragons that threaten her peaceful reign.

But she doesn't need me.

Her sword is far from clean.

She started slaying dragons long before she knew how dangerous fire could be.

And even after getting burned

There's beauty in the scars she's earned.

Pain can be useful.

You see

There's magic in the way she fights.

Like she's got something to lose.

A warrior. She battles

To the death.

And no matter which

Weapon you choose

She won't give in.

Success

Is

Her only option.

She fights to win.

And I give thanks to a God I don't believe exists

That I get

To stand next

To her.

This ancient Goddess of Love and War

Reborn

In a new world.

Order

Has been restored.

Logic and reason are the constitution we now uphold.

With rules written in her moral code.

Because

You see

There's magic in the way she thinks.

And when I drink from her cup of wisdom

I gain greater clarity into the Me I am supposed to be.

She

Unlocks the possibility of tomorrow for me.

The future is a vision that she teaches me to manifest.

Our common interests  
Bleed

Together

To create

New members of a society

Where I am King and She is Queen.

And together

We clear all obstacles

Real and perceived

That block the path that we have set for our happiness.

She plots the course

I pave the way

Understanding that day to day the need for change

Means leaving space

For detours.

But her north is far more true than mine.

And that's why I always get in line with her steps.

Surfing along the lengths of her mental waves

Is how I meditate.

She is my quiet place.

And I would sit in silence for the rest of my days

For just a taste

Of the peace

That comes from holding her hand.

You have to understand

That

To me

She

Is

Magic.

The sun is beaming through the window now, and I am well.

She is next to me

Like a fairy

Without wings.

I think I'll call her

Tinkerbell.


	4. Chapter 4: Day 41

**Written for Richonne Just Desserts 42 Days Challenge**

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Rick stood at the screen door and looked outside. He'd returned from a less than successful supply run to find that Michonne had already put the kids to bed and was waiting up for him. Again. She fixed him a warm plate of food and then sat and talked with him while he ate. They didn't get to see each other very much during the daytime hours, and thus had developed a habit of ending their busy days, together. It was a habit he was growing increasingly fond of.

A deep sigh from the other side of the screen door brought his attention back to the woman who sat there. After dinner, she had excused herself to the back porch. She said that the night was unseasonably warm and that she wanted to enjoy the fresh air. Right now, she seemed a little lost in her thoughts. Rick didn't want to interrupt her in a private moment, but he did want to make sure that she was okay. Plus there was this…habit. He pushed through the screen door and made his way to her side, tapping her gently with the toe of his boot. "Mind if I join you?"

She looked up at him with big, sad eyes. "I was hoping you would."

His hand twitched with the urge to caress the smooth skin of her cheek, but he resisted, choosing instead to simply take a seat next to her. The step they were sitting on was large, but he sat close, liking the way that their shoulders and knees were almost touching. A comfortable silence settled over them, and he moved his leg to tap her knee gently with his. "Thanks for swiping that can of chilli for me. Best dinner I've had in weeks."

She returned his knee tap with one of her own. "You're welcome. It's the least I could do after all the stuff you've brought back for me lately. I think sometimes you know what I need before I do."

"Yeah, well… you live with someone long enough, you get to know them pretty well. And I think I've got you just about figured out."

"Is that so?"

He nodded. "It hasn't been easy though, you're a tough nut to crack. You like to hide. But I see you, Michonne." Their eyes locked and a spark passed between them. He found himself fighting the urge to touch her again. It was getting harder to resist.

"Tell me what you see?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

He smiled. "I see a beautiful woman, who gives more than she takes. I see someone who is loyal, even to assholes like me, who don't always deserve it. I see someone who is strong, but has lost a lot. Someone who is afraid to let people in because she's afraid to lose anyone else. But you're not going to lose us, Michonne." He ran the pad of his thumb over her cheek; her skin was soft, just like he'd imagined. "I'm not going anywhere."

Her big brown eyes filled with tears. He wasn't used to seeing her so vulnerable and was surprised at how it filled him with the need to comfort her. "Hey," he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a close embrace, "what's with the waterworks."

"I don't know, Rick. It just feels like… it's been so long since anyone has really _seen_ me, you know? Since I've seen myself, for that matter. And seeing myself through your eyes, I just seem so sad."

"Well, are you?" He asked.

She exhaled a thoughtful sigh and gave him a soft, watery smile. "Right before Deanna died, she asked me what I wanted, for myself, and for the longest time, I couldn't think of an answer. I was too afraid. You're so right, I was afraid, and I didn't think I deserved to be happy. But things are different now. I am happy. It's strange to say, but I am. I've got to let go of all the pain. It doesn't fit into my life anymore. The rules keep changing, right?"

"Hmmm," he thought of that day just a few months ago, sitting next to her on the hood of a beat up Buick, having a conversation very similar to the one they were having now, "they did for me."

She smiled at him, a small acknowledgement of recognition at her words from months ago being echoed back to her. She closed her eyes and disappeared into herself for a second and a tiny chuckle passed through her lips, surprising him.

"What's so funny?" He asked.

She turned to look at him with a bright clear gaze that danced with a hint of something he couldn't name. "I think I'm ready, Rick."

His heart started to thump and a lump formed in his throat. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around to everything but her face, "Ready for uh… what?"

"Ready to be happy. Ready to let go. Ready to change the rules. You helped me to see that." His arm was still around her shoulders when she leaned into him and placed a soft kiss against his cheek. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Their eyes met and for a moment, everything else fell away. His gaze dropped to her full lips. He wanted to kiss her, but his mouth was dry and his palms were sweaty. He suddenly felt a lot like that awkward high schooler who was mixed up about what the bases meant.

Michonne turned away from him with a shy smile, and the spell was broken. "It's late, I'd better get to bed. I have an early day tomorrow."

He cleared his throat and gave her a nod, "Yeah, uh… me too."

"Goodnight, Rick."

"Goodnight, Michonne." He watched her stand and walk away, and laughed quietly to himself. He'd been waiting for a chance to make a move with her for what seemed like forever and couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just let an opportunity pass him by. His cheek felt warm where her lips had touched his skin, and he groaned with need. It seemed that Michonne wasn't the only one who was ready to change the rules. Rick knew what he wanted; it was her. It had always been her. He was finally ready to tell her that, and next time, he wouldn't miss his chance.


	5. Chapter 5: Surprises in the Attic

**Written For Richonne Just Desserts Summer Flash Fic Collection**

 **Words: 830**

 **Rated: T**

 **Prompts: dust, roof window, party decorations, plane tickets**

* * *

The mid morning sun was high in the sky as golden rays of light beamed through a small roof window, illuminating the tiny specks of dust that floated through the thick air. A drop of sweat ran down the side of Rick's face and he wiped it away with a weary hand. He and Michonne had been up in the attic for the better part of the morning, searching for anything that could serve as party decorations for the barbecue they were hosting for the ASZ residents later that week. He'd been opposed to the idea of a party, but Michonne had talked him into it. She insisted that the community was in need of some positive energy. It was what she wanted, and he was never one to deny her anything.

He looked at her, rooting through a big cardboard box on the other side of the room. Her long legs were bent into a deep squat, making the round curve of her plump bottom look extra enticing in the tiny cotton shorts she was wearing. Her hair was piled into a loose bun on top of her head, exposing the graceful curve of her long neck. A bead of sweat formed at her hairline and slid down her skin, leaving a wet trail that disappeared into the thin fabric of her tank top. He had the sudden urge for a taste of the salt of her skin against his tongue.

"Hey come look at this." Her voice was sweet, like warm dollops of sun kissed honey.

He closed the distance between them and took in the small slips of paper she was holding in her hand. "Looks like plane tickets."

"To Tahiti," she confirmed as she took a seat on the floor. "They're dated for two years from now. Why do you think they were hidden away up here in the attic?"

"I don't know," he admitted with a small shrug, "maybe it was supposed to be a surprise or somethin'?"

"A surprise trip to Tahiti? I like that idea." She exhaled a breathy sigh. "Doesn't that kind of romance sound like a dream right now?"

She turned her big brown eyes up to his with a warm gaze that left him momentarily stunned. Some beauty was quiet and unassuming; her's was a striking kind of beauty. It hit hard, and demanded his attention. He took in her trim body and immediately conjured up images of her in a white string bikini, her skin glistening in tropical sunlight as she splashed around in bright turquoise ocean waters. The two of them alone together, frolicking on a beach somewhere far away from the walls of the ASZ, did indeed sound like a dream. "Man," he sighed, "what I wouldn't give to take you to Tahiti."

"I'm having a hard time picturing you in beach wear, Grimes." She tugged on the hem of his jeans with an amused smirk. "I don't think you can wear these things on the beach, sweetheart."

He kneeled down and gave her a soft kiss. "Who said anything about wearing clothes?" Her quiet laugh vibrated against his lips and he smiled in response.

"You're insatiable, Rick. What am I going to do with you?"

"Hmmm, I don't know." He kissed her again. "How about, have a barbeque with me? Or, maybe run a community with me? Raise kids with me? Love me? Stay with me? Hide surprises in the attic for me?" He stood and offered her his hand, "What do you think?"

A huge smile formed on her face as she took his hand and allowed him to help her to stand. "I think I can do all of those things with you, Rick. I think that there's nothing I'd like more." She wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her closer. "Except for maybe one thing."

"And what's that?" His lips found her neck and he teased her soft skin with tender kisses.

"You, in a pair of shorts and some flip flops. I saw a box of clothes over there that I want you to go through. And you're not wearing those boots to my party."

He looked at her with wide eyes. "What's wrong with my boots?"

"Rick, it's one thousand degrees outside and those things are heavier than lead. Seriously, no boots at my party. I mean it. Now, let's get you some new clothes." She patted him on the ass with a gentle tap and headed off in the direction of the box.

He watched her walk away and shook his head with a wry chuckle. "I thought we came up here to look for party decorations," he muttered to himself.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" She turned back to him with a raised eyebrow and a tilted head.

He licked his lips and smiled at the slight taste of salt that lingered there. "I said, 'I'm coming dear.' That's all."

"That's what I thought you said."


End file.
